“He nearly destroyed the colony the last time you were in port!”
“Now hold on,” Doug said. “Wes was just trying to lend a hand. Your guys asked him for an opinion and let him look at the equipment. It was an honest mistake when he closed off the relief feed for the atmo recyclers. It wasn’t properly marked, and that falls back onto your maintenance guys.”
Garland closed his eyes and shook his head in frustration. “That’s all in the past and beside the point now. You want something, otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”
“Really? A guy can’t visit an old friend without wanting something in return?”
“No,” Garland said with a sneer. “A guy like you doesn’t have friends. You have acquaintances.”
“For the record, you are right though, I am after something,” Doug admitted.
Garland’s face melted from anger to an expression of upset realization. “You’re finally going to cash in on that favor I owe, aren’t you?” Garland sat down in his seat.
“Ding ding ding,” Doug said, tapping the tip of his nose. “That’s it exactly. I’d say ten years is plenty long enough to wait. Wouldn’t you?”
Garland leaned forward; his fingers laced together on the desk. “Alright, let’s get this over with. What do you want,” his voice cracked with a dry and serious strain.
“We have had an opportunity of galactic proportions fall into our laps. To make a true go of it and make it happen, I need a ship.”
Garland tilted his head in confusion. “That’s it? You need a ship,” he said in a disbelieving tone. “You already have a ship.”
“Actually, I have more than a few ships now if you count the ones abandoned in the hanger. But those won’t serve the purpose that I currently need.”
Garland slammed a fist down on the desk so hard that the coffee cup bounced away and began to spill in mid-air in the low lunar gravity. “Then spit it out already. Cut the bullshit, Doug. Let’s get this over with. What do you want!”
Doug leaned forward, eyes ablaze with a gaze of daring confidence. “On the dark side of the moon in the Lunar orbital boneyard, there is a Brynhildr class foundry ship that has been rotting away for decades. Per the maintenance logs that we were able to obtain, she’s still intact, for the most part. I want her.” Doug flashed a predatory smile at Garland.
Atlanta Georgia
Peachtree Street
August 15th, 2176 / Morning, (Betty Time)
“I
am dead serious when I say this,” Lizz said to Camiel. She squared off with the young brunette and gave her a deadpan look. “Operate this office as if it were your own. We will be off-world most of the time and I need someone here that I can trust to do the job.” Lizz turned and continued down Peachtree Street, heading south toward the new offices of LizzCo Industries. The click, click, click of their high heels on concrete echoed from the faces of the close-packed buildings.
“But…,” Camiel started then swallowed hard. “But what if something horrible were to happen? Like a full-blown war or alien invasion or something?”
“It’s as simple as this. Keep the doors open, keep investing and keep making money,” Lizz said plainly. “If you or anyone else working here is in danger, then use your best judgment. You are getting a partnership percentage of all profits. So, the more successful contracts and investments you make here, Earthside, the larger your paydays will be. Bob reorganized everything last night in preparation for our return to Eltanin. I have no doubt that you can take the reins here and thrive at it.”
“I sure hope you’re right,” Camiel looked down and said under her breath.
“Stop it,” Lizz demanded. “We’ll have none of that destructive self-talk. Chin up, positive attitude. Ah, speaking of Bob.” Lizz tapped Camiel on the arm to bring her attention back.
Bob burst through the front door of the new LizzCo office. His suit jacket and decorative tie were a flurry of motion as he rushed to hold open the door for the approaching pair. “Welcome back ladies. You both had an enjoyable lunch, I hope?” He smiled wide and bowed. “You have two...um,” Bob cleared his throat, “gentlemen waiting in the lounge for your return.”
“Oh, well then let’s not keep them waiting,” Lizz said and hurriedly stepped through the door, pulling Camiel along with her.
Two very muscular men in combat harnesses stood as Lizz and Camiel entered the building.
“Well now, would you look at what we have here,” Lizz said in a sultry tone. She stepped into the waiting area and stopped, admiring the well-built male specimens. Lizz thoughtlessly chewed on her lower lip as she ogled the pair. “Hiram didn’t just send us muscle, he sent us some very pretty muscle. Wouldn’t you say so Camiel?”
“Um…” Camiel nervously gulped, forcing herself to take a stuttering breath. “You could say something like that.” Her face melted with a warm daydreaming numbness.
“We were told to ask for Elizabeth Trower,” the large blond-headed Viking looking mercenary said.
“And you have found her,” Lizz replied. “Did Hiram fill you in on any details?”
“No, ma’am,” the shorter, dark-haired man answered with a deep, gravelly voice. “He just said to report directly to you as soon as possible and the details would be sorted out afterward.”
“You will report directly to our office manager, Camiel,” Lizz said while gesturing behind her. “What she says is as good as my own word,” she said with a stern glare at the pair. “I’m sure that Hiram has filled you in on that little tidbit before you left.”
“Yes ma’am, he did,” the large Viking like one gruffly answered.
“Oh, now, I don’t know about all of this,” Camiel argued. She drifted off in dreamy thought. “I mean, look at them. What am I supposed to do with them? And good Lord, what in the world do I feed them?”
“Their primary duty is to protect you, secondary is to protect the business.” Lizz took Camiel by both hands and looked her levely in the eye. “You do whatever you see fit. These two are on indefinite loan to me from Hiram for whatever I want or need to do with them. Consider them yours to do with as you wish.” She quickly turned to Bob and straightened herself. “I believe that we have a ship to catch. Are you ready Bob?”
“Yes ma’am. Shall we?” Bob offered his arm to Lizz.
“Gladly.” Lizz looped her arm through his and they walked out the door.
“Well, alright then.” Camiel nodded nervously and began to wring her hands. “Fellas.” She admired the tall blond-haired man, stopping herself short as she reached out to caress his heavily muscled and tattooed arm.
The large blond-haired biker smiled. “It’s alright. Go ahead. You can touch it,” he said in a tone so soft as to be impossible for his size. He flexed his right tricep and presented his arm to her.
“Oh, my,” Camiel said as she exhaled heavily. She caressed the chorded line of muscle down the side of his massive tricep. She gasped, then yanked her hand back and snapped her fingers. “I know what we’re going to do.” She hurried toward the doors and stopped just as she pushed the door open. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s move it,” she shouted in a tone reserved for drill sergeants and angry mothers.
The pair looked at each other and shrugged. “Okay,” said the larger of the two. “Where are we going?”
“Shopping,” she said matter of factly. “The battle rattle biker look may work for you on a normal day, but not here and not on my watch. You can put the battle rattle back on later tonight,” she said with a wink. “Now let’s move it!”
cHAPTER 40
Sol system
Asteroid Belt / Flux point Alpha.
August 18th, 2176 / Mid-Morning, (Betty Time)
“B
etty, come in. This is the Veronica,” Rachel’s voice cracked. “I have you on radar with a positive return on the IFF transponder, but there are three other contacts riding in your wake.”
“Oh hey, hold on,” Trae flipped on the main view screen. We h
ave you on visual Rachel.”
“It’s okay, Cheezy, they are with us,” Doug said.
“Oh...Okay then? Well, while you guys were off doing whatever the hell that you’ve been doing, I decided to tinker around a little with the flux drive,” she said, then proudly smiled.
“You what?” Trae gasped and began to hysterically laugh. “Oh, my God, we are so screwed.”
“Oh, no,” Wes shouted. “Cheezy, no! Bad Cheezy! Bad girl!”
Doug slowly massaged the bridge of his nose. “Please tell me that you didn’t use Willy’s wrench.”
“Guys,” She shouted. “Oh my God, will you shut it already! I think I figured out the finer details of how the system works.” She huffed with exasperation.
“Alright. Fair enough then. Everyone shut it,” Doug ordered. “Let’s hear what you’ve got, Cheezy.”
“The standard drive system on the Veronica is way more efficient than the ancient, first-generation drive on the Betty. But why does the Veronica burn so much more fuel you ask?”
Everyone on the Betty’s bridge blankly stared at the viewscreen, waiting on Rachel to continue.
“Well, I’ll tell you!” She excitedly continued, wagging her finger at the viewscreen. “If I am right, then we could possibly cut the amount of fuel required per jump in half! That’s right! Save half of your fuel costs with a simple procedure that even a geek could accomplish.”
“What the fuck ever,” Wes said.
“With a simple tweak. A minuscule adjustment. A…”
“Get on with it already,” Doug interrupted.
“By simply fine-tuning the frequency output of the flux emitters to more closely match the frequency of a specific nexus point, our required power output to maintain a stable aperture will be significantly lower than it had on previous portal penetrations.”
Wes exploded with laughter at Rachel’s cheezy and toothy salesman like appearance.
“You practiced that for a while didn’t you,” Doug asked.
Uh-huh,” she mumbled through her still bared teeth.
“That’s a good find Cheezy,” Doug said. “I only assumed the other ships could pass through with us. That might actually give us more flexibility in what we can bring through.”
Doug questioningly looked over at Trae who sat at the side engineering station.
“Shoot over the data,” Trae said. “Let me and Wes give the numbers a look over first, then maybe we can give it a shot.”
“Sounds like a plan to me,” Doug said. “Let’s get it done and get back to the Lair.”
cHAPTER 41
Anderson (Eltanin 2) / Dragon’s Lair
August 19th, 2176 / Lunch-time-ish (Betty Time)
S econdary power turbines whined as they arrived at a steady-state idle. Bob and Lizz appeared walking arm in arm down the Betty’s boarding ramp as it lowered to the ground.
“Welcome home,” Willy greeted.
“William!” Bob enthusiastically waved with his free hand in greeting. “How have you been my friend.”
“Busier than mustard trying to ketchup.” Willy grinned.
Bob and Lizz laughed. “So, we’ve arrived at the horrible puny condiment portion of our relationship, have we?”
“Eh, yup.” Willy snorted a laugh then continued. “I suppose so. I have been going nonstop since you all left. The new machine shop and fabrication bays are all cleaned out and ready for whatever new toys you managed to bring back for me. How was the trip? Uneventful and productive I would hope.”
Lizz chortled. “From a business perspective, it was an extremely productive trip. Much more than I could have dreamt of. I’m sure that Bob will fill you in on all the juicy details later. But for the time being, I need to speak with Melanie about setting up our new hires.” Lizz rose up on tiptoes and kissed Bob on the cheek. “You boys play nice and don’t get into any trouble.” She seductively sashayed away from the loading ramp toward the basecamp area.
Willy turned back toward Bob with an accusatory grin. “Didja get all of your personal business squared away while you were Earthside?”
“Yes, fortunately. I even had the time to visit my old watering hole and pay off the tab that had lapsed into collections status.”
“Anything interesting happen?”
“Oh, you know how it goes.” Bob nonchalantly waved at the question. “A little extortion with a touch of blackmail on the side for good measure. Oh, and Lizz managed to arrange some dedicated security personnel at both the new offices and here, plus extra hands to get things off the ground. Apparently, she has some very close ties with the National President of some motorcycle club or something. I’m not quite sure about them myself, but I’ve never really had dealings with that type before.”
“They wouldn’t happen to have been from the Wings of Odin MC, were they,” Willy asked.
“Yeah, that’s them. Elizabeth said something about calling in a favor that the club president owed her.”
“Wow.” Willy crossed his arms and stared at the ground in thought. “If Lizz called in the favor that Hiram owed her, then she’s dead serious about this place. She’s going all-in or bust I guess.”
“You make it sound like this is really serious,” Bob said.
“The job that we pulled to earn that favor had gone sideways, upside down and backward six ways from Sunday. It nearly got every one of us killed. It was in no way the easy job that Hiram had promised. Lizz was pissed and threatened him with something from way back when. Like back when they were kids or something. I don’t know exactly. That was totally between the two of them. All I do know is that she had some sort of dirt on him from way back that she used as leverage. He promised her a no strings attached favor. No questions, no argument, no matter what it was, he would honor their agreement when and wherever that she wanted it.”
“Wow?”
“Yeah. Exactly.” Willy looked back over his shoulder in the direction that Lizz had gone. “If she called that in, then she is all in on this.” He motioned at their surroundings.
“What’s the word, Willy?” Doug eagerly bounced down the Betty’s loading ramp and stopped dead in his tracks. He, Bob and Willy all glanced curiously toward the sudden sound of Fergus shouting.
“Damit devil woman! You took off and forgot your wifely duties! Get over here and give me some lovin’!” Fergus trotted toward the Veronica as Rachel sprinted down the length of its ramp. The spacesuit he wore slowed his progress.
“Come over here, you hairless monkey man!” Rachel leapt into the air and wrapped herself around his encumbered form. She wrenched her legs around his torso and pushed herself upward. Grasping his head, she repeatedly kissed his forehead over and over again.
Willy turned back to Doug and Bob. “I’ll catch up with you in a bit, Bob. Mel should have dinner ready by now.”
“Captain.” Bob graciously bowed to Doug. “I look forward to the conversation, Willy. I have a few things that I should attend to also. Oh,” he said as he stopped in his tracks. “I made sure to add extra sugar and tea to the shopping list while we were Earthside,” he said as a sidelong comment then continued down the ramp.
“You said dinner,” Doug said to Willy. “What time is it here?”
“1730ish hours, Gamma Draconis time,” Willy said.
“At some point, I suppose we’ll have to establish a full calendar for this place too.” Doug stepped aside as new faces began to disembark the ship. “Just head over toward the base camp and Melanie will set you up with accommodations.” He waved the new crew members onward then turned his attention back to Willy. “Sorry. You were saying, Willy?”
“Well, like I was saying to Lizz and Bob. I have the machine shop and fabrication bays cleared out and ready for any equipment or materials that you brought back. I took a full inventory of those two bays and a lot of other cargo that I could identify as valuable from the other cargo bays. From what little exploring that I did in town, it looks like we could easily salvage a few loads of that struc
tural material from the rubble. But we’ll have to haul it all to orbit to smelt it down in the Betty’s ore processors. We need the cold vacuum of space to operate that system properly.”
“Hey, Cap, you don’t need me for anything right now, right?” Wes hurriedly trotted down the Betty’s loading ramp.
“No, you’re good Geek. Take the night off and spend some time with the wife.”
“Awesome. Thanks, Cap.” Wes leapt forward, then stopped dead in his tracks. He hesitated momentarily, then slowly marched forward.
Doug followed Wes’s gaze toward a roof support pillar that lay in the direction of the makeshift base camp. Flip Winston leaned against the support, casually watching Wes as he descended the ramp.
“You guys shouldn’t have too much trouble unloading the ships. All of Mel’s foodstuffs and kitchen supplies are on the first dozen pallets here on the Betty.” Trae held out a datapad toward Willy as he strolled down the ramp. “All of your machinery and materials are on the Veronica. The rest of the load is general supplies, some real furniture, things like that. Oh, and I have a few pallets of scrap stuff. They can go into the fab shop for now and I’ll strip them down later.”
“Wait? You brought back scrap?” Willy looked at him questioningly, then looked to Doug.
“Don’t ask,” Doug replied.
“You seen Tiff?”
“Yeah, she was cleaning out one of the upper spaces for your quarters. Take that ramp up one level to the concourse area, hang a left and down two doors,” Willy said.
“Gotcha, thanks, brother,” Trae said with a quick handshake then turned to Doug. We good, Cap?”
“You’re good. Take the night off,” Doug said.
“Copy that.” Trae presented a slack armed salute and proceeded off into the darkness of the bay, then stopped abruptly. “Oh, Willy. There are like a half dozen pallets marked fragile. Those belong to Sullivan and Rampkin. I’ll tell you right now, there’s no pleasing either one of them. I understand that the equipment the universities sent with them is delicate, but there’s only so much you can do with a skid loader. It is what it is. But if you try to explain that to them then you’ll have both of them bitching in your ears.
Flux Runners Page 27
